


Listen to my heart

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-06
Updated: 2005-01-14
Packaged: 2018-12-27 14:18:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12082797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: I so hate summaries! It's about leaving and coming back...about thoughts and why communication is important...just give it a try? Please? Oh, and leave a review :).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

First of all : Not mine! No money! Don’t sue!  
Remember: I am not English! (I tried my best)

Alternates between Justin’s and Brian’s POV

* * *

Justin's POV

A note. A note on the damn kitchen counter!   
It is my last fucking day in Pittsburgh and I find this lying on my desk. 

"Jus. smth. came up at Kinnetik! Later B."

You know my first thought was to apologize? A sudden pang of guilt that I had spend the afternoon with Daphne and now you were trying to piss me off. It was gone in a second-- utterly ridiculous. You would never be that petty. It could be any one of a number of things-- off early, leaving late, running errands. Anything at all. 

Besides, you would never realize how easy it would be to punish me if you wanted to. 

So I called. I don't know why. It was silly, I mean it's not like you need looking after, like you have to check in with me when you change plans. But I still call right up without a thought and with a certain righteousness, as if you were AWOL or breaking curfew or something. It's not like you owe me any explanations. 

All right, I lied. I know exactly why I did it.   
But that doesn't really matter now, does it?   
Big account? What the fuck, Brian?   
You’ve always loved your job. I know. I know that you love it even more now that you own Kinnetik. Being your own boss. Being in control. That’s what it’s all about isn’t it? 

It’s the same thing with our relationship. You have to be the one who has the power, who leads. And you know what the sad thing is, Brian? It works. It fucking works, because before I even realize what I am doing I already grabbed my keys and I am on my way. I will always come to you… with you…for you. 

"Justin!" 

You know, for someone who hides his emotions away so carefully from all the world, I can read you like a book. The genuine surprise at seeing me at the door, turning almost instantly to pleasure. That much, at least has changed. Your face is so open now anyone could read it. 

But could anyone else see the pleasure at seeing me slip right into the greater pleasure just to see you?   
And would anyone else's heart tear itself apart at the sight? Because I know that this is our last evening for a long time.

I want to tell you all of this. Want to tell you how much…I feel…that I hope you will welcome me back with open arms in six months…that nothing will change…at least for me.  
And I try…to voice my thoughts…but…it only takes a bare word or two and you're off and running, bubbling over with news and plans—a two million dollar account with who ever the fuck-, I'm not even listening. I am watching you, thinking back…

It's probably the most horrible thing I've ever consciously done.   
Leaving you for Ethan, I wanted to prove you something. A split-second and the world fell apart before I even knew what was happening.   
But this, this I'm doing for myself. Or am I? 

God, I will miss you so damn much. You don’t want to see that…or hear about it…I know. So I put on my happy face…I have learned well from you, you know. I smile and tell you about what I know will happen in LA, about what has been arranged for me…and try…so hard, not to choke on the words…and not to break into tears…

 

Brian's POV

I can't move. I don't think I can survive hearing how happy you are, how perfect your life will be. Yet I can't leave. The words pass over me like water, burning me with just their tone of joy-- and yet I can't get enough. This is it, and I know it. Soon -- far, far too soon-- you will be gone and I won't be able to torture myself like this. 

Do you even realize how completely you've become a part of my life? No, I bet you don't. You weren't here to see my life before, to see how empty it was, how meaningless it all felt.   
And I thought I was even more a part of your life. 

You said once you were onto me , and that was way back, long before the triumphs and the losses, the pain and the near-death and dramas more times than I can even count.

Or was it only by default? I know that you love me Justin. I think I know, but is it real? Fuck, I am twelve years older. I was your first…in many ways. Was I holding you back? Have you moved on in your life? Well, you do now. Was all the time we spent together some kind of adventure for you? Was I just the one who introduced this bizarre new world to you?   
Oh no, God, please..... It was more than that. It _has_ to have been. 

Love is a monstrous thing, Justin. You of all people should know that, no? 

When we get back to the loft, you go on packing and talking. Couldn’t you have done this before? It's not like there's all that much to take...you never moved in. I asked you…you never really answered. I understand…who knows if you will ever come back? Who knows if you won’t meet a wonderful young man with a lot less baggage? 

I'm deathly afraid you will. I can’t stand watching you, so I try to busy myself.

 

Justin's POV

And you just go on, oblivious.   
It’s like this is just another day for you. Win some lose some, right Brian? Like you always did when some gorgeous man made a pass at you. Is that all I am to you? I feel anger burning….but I know. 

I know that we are more. I know that you know it too. The few times you accidentally said it out loud, you got all flustered, uncomfortable. Long before I realized what was happening, it gave me hope. Long before I could face the reasons why, your complete lack of coherent response was like a reassurance, a promise I wasn't going to lose you.   
Time has passed so quickly. 

I nearly gave up, you know? Not on us, never on you, but on my little fantasy about us… a real us…like everybody wants…like Michael and Ben…like Lindsay and Mel…before… I didn’t want to have a perfect monogamous, let’s get married relationship, don’t get me wrong. But I wanted an us, that trusted and believed and wanted…and had a future…together…

The job offer…I felt so strong that morning, when Brett asked me. Fucking Connor James… I had acted like you, you know? I was pretending to be you that evening… that night. I agreed, because I knew that you would have agreed. I didn’t even think about it…isn’t that sad? 

When you asked me to move in with you, everything stopped. First I thought it was a fucking joke. You always tend to make the biggest commitments when no one expects it. I couldn’t tell you than…I couldn’t…didn’t…

Oh damn, I chickened out. 

I didn't know what to say, I didn't know how to deal. I'm not sure if I was more scared to think you might reject me or that you might actually want me too. But we were back together and I saw you every day and it was enough. Enough at least for the moment. 

But the moment's gone. 

 

Brian's POV

He is finally done packing. I don’t know what to do. Fuck, Brian Kinney not knowing what to do, that’s got to be a first. We just stare at each other for a second. I come up with the idea of food…you want to order something? I get the fucking flyers out and you scan through them. I watch your face…so concentrated…beautiful…

I can see the little scar on your forehead…  
I will always remember...

That was when I faced it, you know. I had to. I sat there in the hospital for hours, days, while you were dying. Dying because I failed you.   
I didn't know that kind of guilt and pain existed.   
By the time they were sure you would make it, the guilt was so familiar I could finally see through it. And what I saw should have scared the hell out of me, should have sent me running for cover, burying my emotions away where they would never see the light of day. But it I didn't. I don't know if it was because I was so strung out, so emotionally raw, or if it was because somehow it was just so _right_. 

I remember sitting there in the hall after they told me you were out of danger. It was in the middle of the night and I just sat there for an endless second. It was as if everything stood still for a moment and I had all the time in the world. My first thought was a prayer. Isn’t that fucked? Guess you always hold on to things you have been taught. A gratitude so heartfelt it didn't even have words. Then I reached for words... and realized I didn't know what to say. 

For that endless second I sat there trying to find a word that was strong enough, that would mean what I wanted to say. Had to say. Somehow I felt as if maybe if I didn't do it right, wasn't sincere enough, honest enough in my gratitude, you might be taken away again. 

That did it, you know. That thought nearly doubled me over, as numb as I thought I already was from the pain. "I love him, God." I just broke down babbling in my head. "I love him more than anything on this earth, please... I need him so bad." I thought my heart would break right there. 

I suppose it wasn't the brightest thing to do, huh? I realized that later, much later. But if I wasn't struck down by lightening right there and then, I guess I figured I was pretty much home free afterwards.   
It was only after you woke up that I realized what I'd done to myself. 

There was no way I could face you with this. Hell I didn't even know if you could ever forgive me enough to be friends again, much less anything more. Could there be anything more? I didn't even know what I wanted, I still don't. 

 

Justin's POV

We order Thai. It is nice to sit down with you on cushions in front of the sofa. Dinner with candle light…that’s another thing that changed. 

But this also reminds me of another night…sitting here, drinking wine…you not telling me about the cancer…  
Fuck Brian, what if it comes back?   
Fear grips me and makes it hard to breath. You would do it like before, wouldn’t you?   
You wouldn’t tell me. I understand partly why you did it… You think you have to protect me. You are wrong. You also think that you have to be perfect…strong…beautiful…but don’t you know that I love you no matter what?   
Don’t you know that you can be weak in front of me?   
That I can take the lead for a while, without ever using it against you? 

God, please don’t let it come back ever! All I know is what I knew then-- that losing you would probably kill me. 

So what am I going to do tomorrow? Slap you on the back? Tell you ‘later’? Delay the flight? Tell Brett to fuck off? Oh God, I think I'd do it too... if only just to have the excuse to see you one more time. 

Tomorrow comes way too soon. 

 

Brian's POV

I cannot believe that we are actually here…I hate airports. I always hated them. I want this to be over…fast. I am happy though that you convinced everyone else not to come. I think I would have killed them if they were here. God, I want to kill someone.

I can’t really decipher the look on your face. It is something between shock and fear and realisation. Don’t break down sunshine…not know…not when I am about to say words that will probably break my heart, and yours. I hope you will understand that it is best…. 

“Brian…I…” you look at me with those blue orbs of yours and I wish I had brought two pairs of sunglasses.

“Brian, I…I guess this is good-bye, mh?” You smile a rueful little smile at me.

I am NOT saying good-bye to you, not yet, and maybe not ever.

“I have a computer," you assure me. "I'll write you every day. We can talk on the phone. Phone sex is the best, right? I am pretty sure that I can take a break in October…”

“Justin you are rambling.” You look down as if you were a school boy who got chided by his teacher. I close my eyes for a brief second, “Justin, I am fucking proud of you for taking this chance. I know that you will do good.”   
You smile at me as if you had won in the lottery.   
“I…” God, this is fucked “I don’t think that we should make any promises about what’s after. Go, enjoy your time. Our doors aren’t locked, never were. I think it’s easier for you to adjust if we don’t have contact.”

You stare at me as if I had just punched you in the gut. Maybe I have, but believe me, I don’t feel any better.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Straight forward. Fuck, what do I answer now? I hate this feeling of hopelessness. 

“No. I am not breaking anything…” 

“Fuck you Brian! We are partners! You said so yourself, fuck you!” I can see the anger radiating from your body. 

Shit, I didn’t want it to end like this. Fuck!

“Justin, don’t behave like a brat and let me fucking explain.” 

You stare daggers at me and I feel my own patients running short. A big part of me just wants to turn around and run out of here. 

“I am just saying that six months is a fucking long time. Who knows what will happen. Enjoy your stay, make it best, when you come back, we can see were we stand.”

You look so fucking sad right know that I can’t help myself. My hand reaches out and strokes over your cheek. This little bit of contact seems to be enough encouragement for you. Before I know what’s happening I have you in my arms.   
You are trembling and I know that we both are only seconds from losing it. I pull my strength and will together and push you away from me with a little more force than necessary. Your eyes are red-rimmed, but you are not crying…not yet. 

“Go! “ I feel my voice waver and force my lips to form a little smile.   
You stare at me and finally throw your bag over your shoulder. Just when I think you are on your way you turn around again and press your lips against mine in a crushing kiss. 

More passion and desire resides in this kiss, than I have ever felt before, still it feels so soft, promising, and lasting. You slowly run your tongue over my lips, tasting and savouring them then finally slipping into my mouth. You deepen the kiss, our tongues dancing with each other. It lasts for what seems an eternity before you break it and walk away towards your new life.

I stand by, watching you as you walk onto the plane. I watch you. You who were the thing that filled my life. You go into the boarding line. You look like you are hurting by the way you walk, I want to rush after you and take you back. Carry you back every step of the way if I have to, anything to get you back. 

But I don't. I just stand here. I feel so helpless, like my legs are made of jelly or something. I can't move. And the worst thing is I don't even know what you are thinking. I can only hope. Hope that you realize I said all those things for a reason, hope that it was the right reason, hope that I won’t loose myself in doing the right thing.


	2. Listen to my heart

Justin's POV

 

It's absolutely beautiful here.   
The air is clean and crisp and fills your lungs with the scent of salt and water. Standing on the waterfront, looking out on the ocean, you can see forever and ever. 

I feel a thrill run up my spine and I turn without thinking to share this with you... and you're not there. 

It's been over a month. I should know better by now.   
But how can I learn not to expect you when I see you every night in my dreams? 

Nothing dramatic, nothing exotic. There are two different kind of dreams I have. Either I dream about the most mundane days-- sitting in your car, talking aimlessly and sporadically about nothing and everything. Or just sitting there without any words at all. 

Or…I dream about you fucking me. Having your dick buried deep in my ass, your mouth…your skin…your sounds… I shudder involuntarily. Fuck I need you.

The people here are very pleasant; they've done their best to welcome me, to make me feel at home. But I think they can sense that it simply won't work; that there's nothing they can do.

I spend most of my time out, I hate to be on my own…except when I am here at the beach. 

Seeing no other faces means I won't find myself comparing them to one I know too well -- and finding them lacking. 

My apartment here would probably still appal you, but it's far nicer than I expected; It’s bigger than I thought. But I'm hardly ever there. It is crowded with my stuff, but it still feels empty, lonely, in a way the loft never did. 

People have invited me countless times--- people from work just to hang out together, to have fun, tricks to fuck, or to stay over night. Sometimes I accept, sometimes it helps. Because as I sit here at quiet meals, I find myself missing the family more than anything. The noise and ruckus, the bickering and competition, echo in my head in the midst of the calm peace. 

I miss you, Brian. 

 

Brian's POV

The family knows. 

They haven’t said anything and I'm sure as hell not going to bring it up.   
But sometimes I catch them looking at me and their eyes are so sad.... I know that they miss you as well.

Gus was absolutely impossible for two full weeks, you know. He moaned and cried and you would have thought the damn world was ending. You wouldn't believe the grief he gave me—Where is Jus? Why isn’t he here? Why didn’t you bring him, Daddy?

I tried to explain it to him…as best as I could…   
What was I supposed to say? He didn't want to hear my answers. I didn't want to hear my answers. I'm not even sure I have any.... 

Gus's over it by now. I wouldn't dare to mention your name to his face, but it's true. 

But I'm not over you. 

I talk to you, you know. For God's sake, this is so fucking pathetic... 

At first I found myself in front of PIFA one day after work. I pulled up and looked for you before I even realized what I was doing.   
After that I could see how I simply gravitated that direction at the end of every day, and I started to fight it, deliberately heading away.   
I kept ending up at Babylon-- trading one habit for another, I guess. It's actually the same old there-- as wild as you're gonna get in this city. 

It makes me think of you. 

So I walk in the loft and I start telling you about my day like you're still there. You don't talk back… It's just somehow I need to share it all with somebody, you know? 

Some days I find myself sitting at some bar …drinking and grieving … like my old man always did. 

Like father like son…comes true after all…that scares the shit out of me… Fuck Justin, I need you. I need to share it with you. 

The other thing is that I can't sleep worth a damn. 

Cynthia gave me grief about it yesterday. Said I looked like shit and maybe I should take some time off. I made a big deal of it, bitched like never and she let it go. I know better than to think I'm fooling her, though. I just don't know how much she's figured out. 

Enough not to make me go home, at least. That kind of torture I don't need. I spend too damn much time thinking now as it is. I don't need any more free time. 

 

Justin' POV

Do you know all the times we touched over the years? 

I never thought about it before. But now it comes back to me. I find myself shifting through memories to recall how you feel. Your hands on my shoulder as you concentrate on the computer screen. Your arm slung casually about me as we walk. The play of your muscles when you fuck me senseless . The feel of you in my arms when I hold onto you.

And as we stand there, wrapped tightly together in my daydream, then, finally, I am home. 

You helped me sell my idea for the posters yesterday. 

Michael would kick my ass if he knew how I defended my Rage ideas…make compromises, Justin, he would say.

But I am never going to back down…I learned that from you.  
I didn't even explain myself, I just told them what to do…I created this comic, so I should have the knowledge to do so, right? 

I imagine telling you and seeing you smile that little bemused smile of yours. I know you would have been proud of me.

 

Brian's POV

So I drive. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, I just drive. 

Driving's been my escape ever since the first moment I could duck out the back of the house when I heard my father coming in at night and just disappear into the city. 

The car's still my escape. 

You spent so much time in it the past year it's almost like you're a part of it too now.   
I find myself edgy, short-tempered when I'm driving someone else around and they're sitting in your seat. 

"Your seat"-- just listen to me! I nearly bit Michael's head off today when he threw his bag over into the back without looking. When he complained, I gave him some line about ruining the upholstery the way he's always slinging things around. 

But alone, cruising the streets at night, I find the old peace. 

Only this time it's the emptiness of the house that I'm fleeing. 

Pretty ridiculous, huh? My life is still crawling with people like always. Nothing's changed. 

I mean you weren’t there before, and I managed fine, you know, I should be able to just…go back. But I can’t just go back…I just can’t…. 

 

Justin's POV

The daydreams take up more of my time now. 

There's not much to do. 

Working on a movie is less occupying than I thought. Mostly I have to run errands…being the assistant and all…the only interesting part is being here in case I'm needed for an input on the comic.   
But at least that means something. Here I have a real job; I'm needed, in my small way. I'm respected. 

But I have far too much time to think. 

I take off clubbing nearly every night. I imagine you're with me, complaining endlessly about the tricks and drinks, but coming anyway, as I know you would. 

The world is beautiful at night, but it would be so much more so with you here to share it. 

I imagine us together, me in your arms-- safe, strong.... it usually ends with me either jerking off or crying.

You know Brian, yesterday one of my co workers got me to join her visit some shitty museum about ancient philosophers…did you know that Plato believed that love between two men was the most perfect and only true kind of love in existence…his argument was… 

I'm doing it again, aren't I? How am I supposed to know I'm babbling when you're not here to cut me off? 

 

Brian's POV

Since you have been gone I realize that we have been really good together. We were so good. I know people used to not believe in us. Hell, I didn’t believe in us…didn’t believe in relationships or love or partners.

We are so fucking different. Even in my weirdest dreams I would never have imagined myself in a relationship…Christ Justin, an 32 year old ad exec, with a kid, owning a successful agency, not believing in monogamy or commitment and a 20 year old art student, full of dreams and hopes? 

But it was only a surface opposition. We were more complete together, and, deep and unspoken, we recognized and trusted each other's strengths. 

You always complained bitterly, but you came anyway. I always objected, but I followed your lead. 

Did you ever recognize how many times you lead our little non existing relationship?   
I realize it now…and what really bothers me that I don’t give a shit…even more… that I want it back. I think that maybe…just maybe…it could have worked out…Can still work out? I don’t know…fuck, I want to believe that we can be so much more. 

I can't drive forever, you know. You have what you've wanted and I want so bad to be happy for you, I really do. Either way, somehow I have got to come to terms with this before I lose my mind.... 

Something has got to happen, and it's gonna have to happen soon.


	3. Listen to my heart

Justin's POV

 

We haven’t spoken since you left me at the airport. 

I know that I promised…well, I didn’t really promise…I was far too shocked that moment, but I know that you took my non- responding as an answer…anyway…I called…nearly every fucking day I called…you never called back.

Is it already over for you? Could you really forget me that easily?  
How did you do it, Brian? How did you learn to live without love?

How did you live with the pain of loss, bury it away inside you, and still manage to smile a polite fuck you at the world? 

How did you get through the days missing something that was so much a part of you? Jesus, Brian, how did you get through the nights? 

It's my turn now, isn't it? Oh dammit, Brian! If you were gonna leave me with a broken heart at least you could have taught me how to live with one first.... 

I deserve this. We deserve this. 

We have both lived through too much pain, it is time for some joy.   
I always think the best of people, how can I do less for the world, for whatever forces may affect our lives? Nature's justice is harsh, but it is true.   
I know it makes no sense. I have no doubt that love is a force in this world, but I also know it doesn't follow orderly rules like gravity or the tides. 

But I know this emptiness is wrong.

I got the weekend off. They will start filming next week and I just took a chance.. nobody knows…but I just need to get some fucking answers, because I swear that this…not knowing …is killing me.

Your car's not at the loft, but I pay off the taxi driver anyway. 

As he pulls away I stand there in the street, not knowing what to do. I can't stop my hands from shaking. Perhaps I should have waited until morning.... 

Yes, I should have. It's well after midnight, after all. 

What was I thinking? That you would be at home at the weekend? 

I was thinking I could not wait another minute to see you. 

That's ridiculous.   
I wasn't thinking at all. But I am now. 

The possibilities run through my head automatically. You could be working late, fucking at Babylon, being with another man.... 

Oh God! This was a mistake. A horrible mistake. You're probably with someone… whoever is in your black book this week and I shouldn't be here and if I just leave now quickly no one will ever have to know.... 

I turn the way towards Daphne’s , still trying to convince myself I'm coming to terms with it all and... 

Oh God, now I'm seeing you! In your car…god, you look amazing. I love you.

For a split-second my heart stops cold. Oh God.... 

You stop the car in front of me and there is such disbelieve written on your face that I don't care. All I want is to grab you and hold you and protect you and make whatever it is all right. 

Instead you pull up beside me as you've done a hundred times before and roll down the window.... 

"Justin?" 

 

Brian's POV

You look so damned gorgeous standing there. I can’t fucking believe it.

"Justin?" 

Our eyes lock for just a moment-- a moment that could have been forever for all I know-- until you look away. 

You give yourself a little shake, like you're settling yourself back into your normal calm, readjusting that careful shield, and get in. 

It's probably reflex, more than anything. The same reflex that makes me pull away and keep going down the street instead of parking. 

I probably could sit here forever, cruising the empty streets, just soaking up the feel of you being here again.... I don't want to spoil this one, perfect moment, to end this tiny little gift that means all the world to me, but I have to know.... 

"Justin, what are you doing here?" 

You're just sitting there, eyes front, staring out the window like you're a million miles away. You're supposed to be, dammit, but somehow you're not.... 

"Is it the job?" 

You shake your head, a dismissive little gesture.   
"No. No...." 

And the silence returns. Great, Justin, that's a big help. So if it's not the job that's got you coming back to Pitts, what else could it be? Oh no.... 

"So, who is it?...." 

"No! No, Brian, There is no one....." 

And as your voice trails off all I can think is why did you have to come back? Fuck Justin, I thought we had an agreement, but you never followed the rules, did you? Damn it, I knew that. So why does it feel like I was just kicked in the gut all over again? 

"Then what is it, Justin?" 

More silence. It's getting a bit much. I scan the non-existent traffic and turn left.  
And I know the fucking answer…’I am so glad that you are here’, I want to scream at him…I want to fuck him right here in the car…but fuck, we had a reason not to make any commitment…not to wait for calls or visits…fuck, fuck, fuck…

“I just…I know you said…we said...we wouldn’t.”   
He takes a deep breath:” I needed to see you Brian…I am sorry, I know I shouldn’t have come, but it felt right you know? I wasn’t even thinking.”

“Sorry is bullshit.” I say it out of a habit more than anything else.

He smiles… my heart jumps. Stops. Tries to do both at once.....I slam the breaks we both rock forward only being held by your safety belts.

And before I realize it I've pulled you into my arms and am holding you as you tremble, the control slipping until you're actually shaking against me. And I'm trying to comfort you, rubbing your back, and everything vanishes. 

I can feel your lips on mine and we're kissing and this is heaven. I don't care if I'm damned for all eternity because I'm living in heaven already and I don't ever want to be anywhere but here in your arms.... 

And we finally break apart, gasping for breath and I'm laughing. We're both laughing and sitting parked like a couple of teenagers for heaven's sake and if it meant my life I just couldn't wipe the stupid, sappy grin off my face. 

And than I take you back to the loft…

 

Justin's POV

The door of the loft slams shut.   
My right hand is on the back of your head, my fingers running through soft dark hair, pulling your head down, reaching for your mouth, my left arm slides on your back under your coat… I cannot believe that this is real! I don’t how me made it to the bed…we are so in sync... god, how could I ever live without this? 

The two nights we have together are dream like. We laugh and fuck and actually talk and fuck some more. We don’t go out of the loft, don’t answer any calls… it’s just us.

Slipping out of your arms this morning was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my entire life, Brian. I never wanted to leave you. Never. When I get you back, I’ll never leave you again. I swear it.

But I have to do this and somehow I don’t feel so scared anymore. We have survived three months already and I have the feeling that this only made us stronger. I love you. I hope you know that.

I look at you one last time…you look so peaceful when you are asleep…a small smile is still on your lips.

My lips still burn from your taste…my mouth tingles as well. I remember everything we’ve done, and I know that I will replay it to myself, thinking of everything we will do and of everything that is waiting for me …at home. 

Sitting in the plane I recall last night. I remember how your tongue probed into my mouth, and massaged against mine, tasting. I remember the soft sighs you breathed into my mouth. I remember my fingertips tracing around your skin, following the muscles in your arms…you nibbled your way down my collarbone and I groaned.   
My hand still slid down further, fingertips rubbing your ribs delicately and my palms slowly coming to glide past your bellybutton.  
I nudged your chin up with my nose and brought my teeth down over your throat, my tongue swirling warm lines over your Adam’s apple. I felt you breathe in and moan, the vibrations sending tingles through my mouth and teeth. I remember straddling your waist and kissing you deeply…our clothes crumbled on the floor. I reached my fingers down and danced them teasingly along the top of your groin, and leaned back, rubbing my hands down the insides of your thighs. I rocked back and forth, leaning back forward, bracing myself with my palms flat… 

“Sir…Sir?”

I am startled for a moment being pulled out of my day dream.

“Would you like something to drink, Sir?”

The nasty flight assistance stares at me waiting for a response. 

I just shake my head, and I am really glad that I my sketchbook is lying over my lap. Damn, this will be one long flight… I glance at my clock and wonder if you are up yet…

 

Brian's POV

... And I wake up alone. 

Alone and cold and cursing God or fate or life or whatever...this is fucked… this is pathetic…and I don’t do pathetic…

I can’t help but notice that your small bag is gone as though you'd never been here. I mean, it's not like there was that much to take. You'd barely arrived-- it couldn't have been that hard to leave. 

I could almost tell myself that I'd dreamed the whole thing, your return, the love in your eyes, the feel of your body, the peace in my soul... if it weren't for waking up in swat tangled sheets from two nights of fucking... for the smell of you on my skin. 

I don't blame you for disappearing. Actually I am glad you did. I would have hated another gone with the wind scene on the fucking airport. 

Life will go on for the next three months. You will be a big fucking success in LA and I will be the same here in Pitts…  
We will see were we stand when you get back. 

There is still a little voice in my head telling me not…to trust…not to give myself away…but there is also hope…in my heart…maybe… I should have enough faith as to listen to my heart for once…and...I think that maybe... I should call you tonight…


End file.
